


A Memorable Night

by LilyIsMilesAway



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyIsMilesAway/pseuds/LilyIsMilesAway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before their graduation ceremony, the Amis decide to spend a last epic night and to get Enjolras pissed for real for the first time of his life. </p><p>Enjonine with a splash of Jetaire. </p><p>A Pole Dancing DrunkJolras prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Memorable Night

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Une nuit mémorable](https://archiveofourown.org/works/848054) by [LilyIsMilesAway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyIsMilesAway/pseuds/LilyIsMilesAway). 



> For your information, the 80s song that I had in mind is Les Lacs du Connemara. By the very first Enjolras in the history of the musical. A drinking song very well-known around here… For the other one, I let you choose you favourite one…
> 
> And a very big thanks for the lovely Tracy who beta'd it !

Enjolras had just gotten his degree, like all his comrades playfully called the Amis de l’ABC. The graduation ceremony was to be held the next day and they decided to follow the tradition: to go there after a sleepless epic night. Of course, Grantaire had taken the reins of the evening, assisted by Courfeyrac. Enjolras was reluctant but exceptionally agreed to come. However, he was determined not to abuse alcohol. Throwing off ballast, yes. Losing control, no.

But he forgot to take his friends into account when he formed this plan and they could not let their leader leave university without getting pissed for real. Only Combeferre wasn’t really willing to play that game but had resigned when Grantaire threatened to ‘sort his books in his own personal way’. So he had promised not to intervene, but he wouldn’t take an active part in it either.

The plan was to first have dinner in a small restaurant at the corner of the university’s street and then migrate to their favourite pub and after that… God only knows…

*

At the restaurant, the wine already flowed freely and the tongues were loose.

Courfeyrac was playing his favourite game: teasing Enjolras about his love life, which had been literally nonexistent during their time at Uni.

“So, Enjolras, now that you no longer need to ‘concentrate on your studies’ and that you can ‘waste your time with frivolous pursuits,’ will you let yourself go a little? I heard that Noémie is still interested.”

The blond winced at the mention of the girl who had pursued him since their first year.

“I will surely disappoint you, Courfeyrac, but I have no intention of wasting my time with brainless blondes.”

Passionate brunettes, however, were a different story, Combeferre realised, when he caught his friend’s eye dwell on Éponine, currently sitting at the other end of the table and in conversation with Feuilly. Fortunately for Enjolras, Courfeyrac was too busy laughing to notice.

*

It was nearly eleven o’clock when they left the restaurant, taking the direction of the pub. Grantaire and Jehan were already singing some popular tunes a few meters ahead of the others, who were happily chatting in small groups.

At the pub, Grantaire and Courfeyrac put their plan into action, under Combeferre’s disapproving gaze. Enjolras was talking with Éponine who was, by chance –or not– sitting just next to him, and didn’t realise that his pint never emptied.

And when Bahorel proposed to order tequila shots, he wasn’t in a position to refuse anymore.

*

At one in the morning, they had to leave the pub, which was closing, and under Grantaire’s direction, they took the road to a club, only known by well-informed night owls. The building wasn’t much to look at, and was even downright creepy. The sign was barely visible, but after going through a narrow corridor, it provided a dark setting full of nooks, but still enjoyable.

A stage, situated in the back of the room, was for now unoccupied. A pole in the centre of it was ready for the show that would follow.

Grantaire and Jehan were already dancing on the dance floor. Soon joined by Bossuet and Bahorel. Courfeyrac and Feuilly were flirting with some girls, elsewhere. And Combeferre and Joly were discussing some thorny ethical issue while Enjolras, comfortably ensconced in a corner of the booth, continued his apparently endless conversation with Éponine. Both seemed to be completely ignoring the rest of the group. And, when Marius joined them after spending the evening with Cosette and her father, neither of them greeted him, while the others welcomed him loudly.

When Combeferre moved to make room for the newcomer, he didn’t fail to see Enjolras’ hand, until now hidden, nonchalantly placed on the young woman’s forearm. The Philosophy student had to look twice to make sure that he had seen what he thought he had seen. But no, that hand on Éponine’s arm was undoubtedly Enjolras’, the man who was so not fond of physical contacts that a simple tap on the shoulder would make him cringe.

Soon, Grantaire came, with a whiskey in one hand had Jehan’s hand in the other, and invited “that bunch of larvae” to come and dance. Jehan giggled and nodded.

Knowing that they wouldn’t let it go and determined to make this a memorable night, they stand up. Only Enjolras was difficult to convince and it took Éponine, now in Marius’ arms, to make him stand while mumbling. Combeferre briefly wondered whether it was the young woman’s overstretched arm in his direction, or Marius’ hand almost possessively lying on her waist that convinced him, but he quickly joined Feuilly and Bahorel, who were already on the stage.

When Enjolras finally came, they all show their satisfaction by whistles and applauses. By a happy coincidence, or Courfeyrac’s intervention, since he was returning to the dance floor with a boastful smile, the first notes of a well known 80s song –which you could hear when you were standing close enough to the bathroom when Enjolras was in there– started playing. And it went like a dream. When the second verse started, he was already hooked up at the pole on the centre of the scene. Everybody in the room had stopped to cheer.

Galvanised by his audience’s enthusiasm, he started a new song, revealing his taste for musicals, dancing and twirling around the pole expertly.

Even if he had known him since secondary school, Combeferre had never seen his best friend like that, and noted that on the female contingent’s side, the efforts of his friend (who was now upside down) were appreciated.

The blond made a last spin and ended his number panting, kneeling at the edge of the stage. He stood and, in a booming voice, ordered a round for everyone. He then sat down, breathless, at his place. The other soon joined him expressing their admiration, and teasing a bit.

Her place in the booth being taken by Jehan, Éponine fell back on the chair next to Combeferre’s. She stared vacantly at the others currently teasing their leader, who, unexpectedly didn’t seem to mind.

“Who would have known that, huh?”

She turned, surprised, to her neighbour, who continued.

“I’ve known him for ten years, I’ve never seen him like this.”

He hesitated before carrying on.

“I’ve never seen him being ‘tactile’ with anyone either.”

Pointing his gaze at the young woman, looking for a reaction, he wasn’t surprised to see her blush for a second before answering.

“I didn’t know that he had such a beautiful voice.”

“He’d kill me for saying this to you but when he was a kid, he was in the parish’s choir. Until he was old enough to tell his parents to piss off.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” She reassured him with a smile and a nudge.

*

A few more drinks and a few more dances later, five o’clock came, and they had to move again. It was by far not the time to go get ready for the ceremony. Feuilly suggested going to this little bakery where they could have some treats if they went to the back door.

They then took the direction of the riverbank and sat there in disarray. Courfeyrac was acting like an idiot and barely missed falling in the water several times. Grantaire, lying, his head on Jehan’s lap, started the conversation by recalling some fond memories of their years together. Like the time Enjolras had ended on his flat’s landing in his underwear.

Quite unexpectedly, he didn’t growl at the mention of this inglorious memory. Nor counter-attack. A glance on his right side was enough to reassure Combeferre; his best friend was still alive and well, lying on his back too busy flirting by Éponine who was playing with his curls. To prevent the others from disturbing them, the Philosophy student took action and mentioned the time Bossuet had fallen into a fountain while being chased by the police at one of their rallies.

When the sun was fully up, someone offered to go get ready and then meet again for a brunch before the ceremony, which took place at 11 AM. The motion was approved unanimously, save two. Enjolras and Éponine were missing. They all looked at each other, wondering how they could have disappeared without being noticed. Combeferre was pleased with himself; he distracted the other so well that even he had not seen them leave.

*

Combeferre had just finished dressing and was fixing himself some coffee while waiting for Courfeyrac to get ready. He was trying yet again to call Enjolras when he heard the front door slam and his friend’s ringtone. Lucky for him, Courfeyrac was still in the shower singing very loudly some pop song.

Curiosity however was stronger than him.

“So… You and Éponine?”

The other mumbled a reply that sounded like “not your business” before turning to the coffee machine.

“Seriously, do you think that I haven’t seen your little game? If I had known, I would have made you drink sooner! So, where did you go? Her flat?”

Enjolras took a sip of his coffee before nodding.

“Grantaire almost surprised us when he came home. I had to wait until he went to the shower to go.”

“Are you planning to tell the others?”

This was the moment Courfeyrac chose to come out of the bathroom and welcome Enjolras, ready to bombard him with questions as well. The latter argued that he had to go and take a shower if they wanted to be on time.

*

When they joined their friends at the café, the same café where they had spent most of their time together, everyone was there, except Grantaire and Éponine, who weren’t exactly known for their punctuality. However they both arrived about ten minutes later. Combeferre had to discreetly elbow his friend, whose brain had seemed to bug and whose jaw had dropped at the sight of his… girlfriend? in a bright crimson dress, which, he had to admit, suited her to perfection.

She sat between Bahorel and Feuilly at the other end of the table, flirting and laughing with them, which seem to put Enjolras into a certain state of agitation. Until the moment where she looked at him and give him the most radiant smile in history.

Ah, young love…


End file.
